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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113833">Beautiful Dreamer, Wake Unto Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1'>thebright1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Aziraphale/Crowley/Aziraphale, Dream Sex, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Oral Sex, Secondhand Awkward, Somnophilia, Threesome - M/M/M, kind of, of a sort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebright1/pseuds/thebright1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale visits Crowley during his long nap after their fight in 1862. Sexy times ensue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Name That Author Round 3: After Dark</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Name That Author NSFW Round 3 on the GO Events Discord server. </p><p>The challenge was: 500 words, NSFW, based on the prompt: "This better not awaken anything in me." </p><p>Chapter 1 was submitted for the challenge. Chapter 2 is . . . for fun. No plots were harmed in the making of this smut. </p><p>And if you want to see some beautiful art of the final moment of Chapter 1, the AMAZING doorwaytoparadise made art for ALL the ficlets in the challenge, collected here: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102748">Awakening</a>. They are listed by number-- this one was #40, and the composition is wonderful!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>1862</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Aziraphale,</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me. You can find me in the South Downs cottage if you need me, but I expect you won’t. I don’t need you either. I’m enclosing a key. I’ll see you when I get up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>July, 1895</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale enters the cottage through the back door, pushing aside the vines and overgrowth that hide it from the view of any would-be burglar or adventurous soul. Inside, a thick layer of dust covers all the available surfaces. Dim summer sunshine slants through the edges of the heavy drapery. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slips into the bedroom, which is even darker than the rest of the house. Aziraphale can feel the background hum of Crowley’s demonic miracles at work. This room is in perpetual night, no matter the weather. It’s cool and temperate, despite the stifling summer heat outside. There’s no dust, mice, or cobwebs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t need you either. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aziraphale closes the door gently behind him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t wake me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hangs his coat and hat on the rack. He removes his shoes, sets them neatly by the door. Off come the gloves, the tie, the collar, the cufflinks. He places them on top of the nightstand and rolls up his sleeves. Then he climbs onto the bed and curls his body up against Crowley. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you need me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale puts his head up next to Crowley’s, places his lips against the demon’s ear. “I need you,” he says in an almost inaudible voice. “I miss you.” Then he closes his eyes, and reaches out with his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale finds himself in a magnificent garden. No, not just any garden-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> Garden. It’s more lush and verdant than he remembers. Aziraphale can hear the soft surrations of the nearby waterfall and the sounds of birds calling to one another in the trees. He hears voices-- Crowley’s voice, and . . . his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he hears a groan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back a rather large fern. On the other side, on the soft grass at the edge of the waterfall, he can see himself and Crowley. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re naked, and Crowley is fucking him. The dream Aziraphale lies on his back, his knees drawn up tight, his cock red and hard against his belly. Crowley’s long, lithe body rocks into him over and over. Aziraphale watches himself moan, insensate with pleasure, hands gripping Crowley’s forearms, his back. He can hear snatches of their words.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-So good inside me, darling-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Could fuck you forever-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Don’t stop-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Love you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s breath catches. This isn’t what he’d thought he would find when he decided to visit Crowley. This is obviously a private fantasy. He should leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Aziraphale pushes the fern aside and takes a step forward. He realizes he is still wearing his clothes, and blinks them away. He’s already half-hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He comes closer, only a meter away, now. He clears his throat pointedly, and Crowley and the dream Aziraphale both freeze and turn to look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley gasps. “Angel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale swallows hard and asks nervously, “Yes, ah . . . May I join you?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There is a pause, where Crowley just stares at him, blinking. The seconds stretch out long, one after the other. Aziraphale feels himself blush down to the roots of his hair. His erection begins to wane, and he looks at the ground and shuffles his feet, suddenly incredibly embarrassed. He’s not sure what kind of reception he expected when he had blundered out of the bushes. This was an experience designed for two, after all. Not that he hadn’t seen humans try (and succeed) to incorporate more, but-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” the Dream Aziraphale says. Crowley and Aziraphale both turn to look at him. Dream Aziraphale raises an eyebrow at Crowley. “This is your subconscious, your dream,” he says to Crowley. “You should get what you want.” The Dream Aziraphale’s eyes catch his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale finds himself stunned by the words coming out of this version of himself. He has a single moment of sheer panic while he realizes that actually, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the metaphorical devil sitting on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> shoulder. Then a deep, abiding calm settles over him. This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, after all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Crowley’s dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no less. There are no watchful eyes of Heaven to be worried about. No repercussions for him or Crowley, when it came down to it. And hasn’t part of himself always yearned for this kind of freedom? He doesn’t need to be the paragon of morality here. He, too, can get what he wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What we both want,” Aziraphale says, suddenly bold. Crowley’s eyes snap to him. Aziraphale matches his gaze, unflinching. “What we’ve both wanted from the beginning, isn’t that so?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley makes a strangled sound as Aziraphale goes to his knees beside him. The grass is soft under him, the loam so much softer than any soil he has stood on since. Was it actually like this? Or is this just the dreaminess of Crowley’s memory? Crowley pulls back slightly from Aziraphale’s double as Aziraphale reaches a hand out and to slide across Crowley’s shoulder, and into the long red curls that tumble down his back. Aziraphale leans forward, and presses their mouths together, and it is glorious. Crowley’s lips are cooler than he had expected, but they warm quickly to his own. He slants his head, reaches his tongue out delicately to explore the seal where their mouths meet. Crowley tastes like yellow apples, honey-sweet and slightly tart, and Aziraphale wonders if he and his dream lover had been eating the forbidden fruit before this all began. He feels a hand on his side and startles, breaking the kiss and looking down. Aziraphale’s double has placed a hand on his hip. Unheeded, Crowley mouths at Aziraphale’s ear, his neck, pressing open mouthed-kisses and flicking his tongue. The Dream Aziraphale looks at Aziraphale with a bemused expression, a challenge in his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do I really look like that? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aziraphale wonders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind me, my dear,” his double says. Aziraphale watches familiar fingers slide forward, and then wrap around his cock, which is beginning to show signs of interest in the proceedings again. The doppleganger’s grip is firm, his fingertips soft. “Just getting you ready for him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley, the tip of his cock still just inside this figment of his imagination that looks and sounds like Aziraphale, gives a little moan from somewhere in the vicinity of the actual Aziraphale’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream Aziraphale chuckles darkly. “Yes, my love, you’re going to have us both ways, aren’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale thinks about fucking Crowley and feels his mouth run dry. His cock pulses in his doppleganger’s hand.  He watches that oh-so-familiar hand as it strokes him up and down. His eyes refocus below where he can see Dream Aziraphale’s cock, still hard and leaking. His double’s balls are drawn up tight, and lower he can see where Crowley’s cock is sunk deep inside his arse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale feels his double’s hand swipe across the gathering moisture at the tip of his cock, at the same moment that Crowley bites gently on his clavicle. He gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aziraphale,” Crowley chokes out. Aziraphale pulls back and sees Crowley’s eyes transfixed downward as the doppleganger strokes him to full hardness. He’s breathing hard. “Let me suck you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good idea,” Dream Aziraphale says. “You have so many good ideas, Crowley. That’s what I love about you. Almost as much as I love your cock inside me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley tilts his head back and moans again. Aziraphale is seized by a sudden urge to push this interloper out of the way, shake Crowley and demand that he wake up, that he look and see Aziraphale, the actual Aziraphale, here with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He knows,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his own voice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, says in his head. He glances down at his double, who gives him a meaningful look and then lifts his chin towards Crowley. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows you’re here. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley,” the Dream Aziraphale says. “Crowley, my love, please be good to me. Will you be good for me and put your cock all the way back in, my darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley gasps, nods, and then thrusts his hips forward, driving home. The doppleganger hisses in pleasure. Aziraphale is enraptured by the look of absolute ecstasy on Crowley’s face. “Still,” the demon pants, “still want you in my mouth.” Crowley looks at Aziraphale, as he fucks into the dream beneath him. “Please, angel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale surges forward and kisses Crowley, his tongue going deep, savouring that sweet tart flavor. He devours Crowley’s mouth, moans as their tongues slide against each other, wet and hot. His hands caress Crowley’s skin, tangle in the long red curls. His cock is hard and aching and the double keeps pulling at him in long, languorous strokes, just the way he likes to touch himself. He skims a hand down Crowley’s back, feels the muscles flexing under his fingers. “You taste like apples,” Aziraphale says against his lips. “Oh, Crowley, I have missed-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The double’s hand, which has fallen away from Aziraphale’s cock, smacks his arse, hard, before he can say anymore. Aziraphale would feel outraged if it had been anyone other than himself. Or a version of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t keep our demon waiting,” the Dream Aziraphale says in a sharp, unhurried tone. Does Crowley really think he could ever be that put together? Let alone in a situation like this? “Let him taste that cock of yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale feels almost overwhelmed with sensation and he finds that he’s glad for the direction. He stands, positions himself over his double, and lines his cock up with Crowley’s open, gasping mouth. Crowley slows his movement and then licks the head of Azirphale’s cock. Aziraphale moans and Crowley looks up, locking eyes with him. He darts his tongue out in small, furtive licks that leave Aziraphale breathless. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tell him what a good job he does,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he hears the double’s voice in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He likes that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’ll</span>
  <em>
    <span> like that. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s voice shakes a bit as he speaks. “I- I like that, Crowley.” The demon’s lips wrap around his cock and, very gently, begin to suck. “Oh, that feels wonderful.” Aziraphale pets Crowley’s head, the red hair warm under his fingers in the brilliant light of the newly built sun. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doppleganger breaks in. “Don’t forget about me, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley suddenly swallows him down and Aziraphale curls his toes in the grass. The angle changes as Crowley starts to fuck the Dream Aziraphale. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hold his head, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hears the voice in his head say.  </span>
  <em><span>He wants it, he wants you. Take him, </span>use him. </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale groans. He looks down and presses a thumb delicately against Crowley’s cheekbones before sliding both hands into Crowley’s hair and holding him steady. Crowley looks up at him and Aziraphale sees such longing there, he gasps. His heart stutters in his chest, and he swallows hard against a sudden lump in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Use him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his double’s voice says in his head again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Aziraphale whispers. He pushes back gently from Crowley’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel-” Crowley begins, but Aziraphale is stepping to the side, kneeling in the grass once more. He puts his hands in Crowley’s hair, presses the sweaty locks out of he way, and cups the demon’s face between his hands. Crowley’s hips still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley,” Aziraphale says softly. “Let me love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” the Dream Aziraphale snarls. Aziraphale startles at the tone, the sharpness coming at him in his own voice. “That’s not what this is about.” He turns to look at his double. There is burning hatred in the doppleganger’s eyes, a fierceness that makes Aziraphale shudder. “You don’t get to come in here and say those things. Not to us.” The double draws out the last word in a hiss. “This isn’t about you and </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> feelings. This is what we want, and if you don’t like that, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you can just leave.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Aziraphale jolts awake. He is still curled up next to Crowley on the bed. In the distance, he can hear the chirp of crickets. He has no idea how long he has lain here with Crowley. He is unbearably hard and there is a damp patch on the front of his trousers. Aziraphale feels a heavy weight on his chest. He blinks back tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley sleeps on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>-FIN-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! Come talk to me <a href="https://thebright1.tumblr.com/">on Tumblr</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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